fighter
by lmacy
Summary: What if Elizabeth was in the room when the RPG was fired and what if Stevie had been severely hurt. AU of season five episode one. Short multi chap. Thanks so much to the person who gave me this prompt. Happy reading :)
1. Chapter 1

Fighter

It was dark. She couldn't see. Were her eyes open? It was quiet. Actually, not quiet. There was this ringing… a buzzing in her ears. She wanted to move but her body felt heavy… numb. And then she heard the first scream. It was faint due to the hissing sound she was experiencing, but the cry for help was still heard. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, but she had no idea what she was seeing. Her chest was pressed flat against the ground; her limbs were spread out in every direction. Elizabeth groaned as she slowly pushed up on her hands and knees. Her muscles were so sore. 'What the hell had happened?' She thought as she finally stood up on her shaking legs.

She glanced from left to right, surveying the room… or what was once a room. And not just any room, The Oval Office. Walls were gone. Windows smashed. The entire room was coated in a thick layer of black ash.

Her eyes burned. She blinked rapidly attempting to clear the dust from her vision. She squinted trying to see through the still hovering smoke. She inhaled deeply, followed by an immediate fit of coughing. Her chest heaved, she took short and shallow breaths after seeing numerous people lying on the ground.

The moments before the explosion flashed through her head. She was thrown to the ground from the force of the blast. She'd been standing, back towards the windows… God hadn't she learned from the last time never to stand near the windows… The last time. Iran. Her mind sent her spiraling back. It was nearly five years ago but the memories seemed fresh.

She took small steps backwards on quivering legs until her back came into contact with a wall. This all felt too familiar. She slid down the paneling into a heap on the floor. Her heart pounded against her chest as she gasped for air. Elizabeth pulled her knees to her chest, protecting herself. Her body shook with fear as she unknowingly started to cry. An alarm began blaring from somewhere. The loud insistent noise startled her causing her hands to instantly cover her ears.

Elizabeth stared downwards at the floor feeling helpless and alone. A choked cry sounded from somewhere nearby, but she didn't dare look up. When a wheezy 'mom' was murmured her eyes darted upwards landing on the unmoving form in front of her. One glance. All it took was one glace and her heart rate went skyrocketing again. Blue eyes connected with blue eyes. Stevie. Oh god. Her baby.

Elizabeth was thrown into yet another panic, but she pushed down her fear. The only thing that mattered in that moment was the well-being of her eldest. She leapt into action, crawling over broken glass, fragments of wood, and other debris to get to her daughter.

Elizabeth kneeled down next to her first born, ignoring the pain from the pieces of glass cutting into her skin. The sharp pieces were littered all about. "Mama." Stevie whispered staring up at her mother. Elizabeth looked down into her daughter's fear filled eyes. She looked so young… so innocent in that moment.

"Oh baby." Elizabeth said placing a hand on Stevie's pale cheek. She nearly recoiled at how cold her daughter's skin felt. "Mama's here." She declared as she ran her eyes over Stevie's body. The twenty five year old laid on her side slightly, but more so on her stomach. Her face was scraped and already bruising. But that wasn't what concerned Elizabeth.

She swallowed hard seeing the large piece of glass sticking out near Stevie's right shoulder blade. The once pink blazer was now soaked an alarming bright red. Elizabeth immediately pressed her hands near the wound and pushed down, applying pressure to help stop the bleeding.

Stevie whimpered at the action. "Hurt." She breathed, only having the energy to mumble that one word.

"I know it hurts, but baby you're gonna be okay. Okay?" She cried, tears streaming down her face once again. This time not for herself, but for the sake of her daughter. The young girl gave as much of a nod as she could muster. Elizabeth glared down at the wound before her gaze flashed back to her eldest's face to find her eyes closed.

"Stevie!" She nearly screamed. "Baby you have to stay awake!" She said loudly as she removed one of her hands from her daughter's back to firmly pat her cheek, encouraging her to open her eyes. "Cold." Stevie muttered. She was visibly shaking.

"I know sweetheart." Elizabeth barely got the words out before she was being yanked up from the ground.

"Madam Secretary come with me." A large man commanded, putting a hand on the small of her back, beginning to guide her towards the door, but The Secretary stayed rooted to the spot. "Fred?" She questioned, still in a foggy haze. Her eyes were playing tricks on her. She was seeing things. Remembering things. Things that happened that doomful day five years ago.

"It's me ma'am, Matt… We need to move you now." He declared, pushing her forwards, but she fought against him. Her bare feet ached from the tiny pieces of glass on the floor. Where had her shoes gone?

"My daughter!" She yelled, protesting against the agent, but her anger didn't persuade him. His job was to protect her and only her. She was his priority. He led her from the room into the hallway quickly.

Elizabeth's chest was heaving. Her eyes wandered frantically down the corridor for anything, anyone to help. "I… I can't. I need…" She struggled to breathe. She looked back over her shoulder, wanting, needing to be back in that room.

"Ma'am we need to move you to a secure location." Frank told her hovering over The Secretary as Matt was holding her bicep firmly, urging her to walk forward.

"No! I need… my daughter." She yelled, struggling to get the words out. Elizabeth tried to break away from their hold, but her body was weak. She was powerless. They restrained her easily. "Ma'am someone is with her. The medics are seeing to each individual." Frank informed her, but his words didn't settle her one bit.

"No you don't understand I… I…" She mumbled incoherently as her vision began to blur. She felt as if she would pass out. She shook her head back and forth.

"Elizabeth!" Matt yelled, grabbing her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. It felt odd using her first name, but he needed to do something. He caught her gaze, but her eyes were wild. All reasoning gone. She was in a panic. "We need you away from The White House in case of a secondary attack. I promise you someone is tending to your daughter." He told her, hoping to get through to her.

"Stevie." She muttered, doubling over. Her head swam. White spots dotted across her eyes. "I… I can't breathe." She said clutching at her chest, gasping for air. The two agents took firm hold on her small limp body, catching her before she fell.


	2. Chapter 2

Fighter

Chap 2

AN: I realized I forgot to put an author's note on the last chapter because I was in such a rush. So I basically wanted to say that this was meant to be a one shot (a long one), but I'm stuck on the last little chunk of the story. I wanted to get it out here to you guys so I could get a little feedback and encouragement. And yes I am already posting the next chapter; I'm trying to feed it to you guys quickly. Oh AND yes I know I haven't updated here for you….. I started college the last week of August and I have little to no free time right now. My major is very… needy and very difficult, and most of my time is being devoted to school right now. BUT I have not forgotten about my precious and one of my favorite stories. I'm holding off on the next chapter because I don't want to rush through it. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! I appreciate you all AND encourage you all to write because I love reading new stories!

Her head was throbbing to the point where she could barely open her eyes. And when she did she completely regretted doing so. Seeing the fluorescent lights above appear and vanish before quickly reappearing made her dizzy. Everything was spinning. And her stomach churned. The pace at which the doctors were wheeling her down the corridor wasn't helping. Elizabeth groaned loudly as a hand flew up to cover her eyes as the other gripped the side of the gurney.

"Madam Secretary?" One of the medics called, hoping for a response. She wanted to answer, to tell them to slow down, but no words would come out. Instead nausea clawed at the back of her throat. "Stop. She's gonna be sick." One of the doctors announced, seeing the look on their patient's face. She was grateful for the man's ability to see that something was wrong. A bedpan was pushed in front of her face just as she threw up. She heaved a handful of more times, but nothing else came up. "Are you okay to move ma'am?" A nurse questioned sympathetically. All she could do was nod. They continued forward, but much slower.

An oxygen mask was gently positioned over her mouth, and she didn't put up a protest. Although most of the ambulance ride was a blur due to her panic, she distinctly remembered refusing the mask beforehand. Elizabeth inhaled deeply, breathing in the much needed air, before harshly closing her eyes. She wanted to shut out the light. The people. The chaos of the hospital. But through all the ruckus she heard the frantic call of her name.

"Elizabeth!" She knew that voice. Henry. It was her husband. "Elizabeth, I'm here." He said as he rushed up to the still moving gurney. She could see the fear in his eyes. For the first time she wondered how awful she looked. "How is she?" Henry asked the handful of doctors surrounding his wife.

"We're taking her upstairs to run some tests before we stitch up her injuries." One answered.

Henry stared down at her, scared how small, how helpless she looked. She was so vulnerable. He watched as she tugged on the oxygen mask, pulling it down off her mouth. He could tell she wanted to say something, but by the way her chest was quickly rising and falling in a very uneven pattern he knew she was unable to. "It's okay sweetheart. I'm here. It's gonna be all right." He soothed, but she didn't calm.

She reached out an arm and grabbed his hand. "Stevie." She mumbled before coughing. "Go to Stevie." Elizabeth choked out in a raspy voice. His face read confusion. He never even considered the idea that his daughter had been in the room. "Go." Elizabeth commanded, trying to shake him from his state of shock.

He gazed down at her. Brown eyes connecting with blue. He didn't want to leave her, especially in a state of panic. He was torn between his daughter and his wife. Ultimately Elizabeth made the decision for him. "Henry, go." She told him again. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before taking off in a jog, running in the opposite direction of Elizabeth.

~MS~

Henry walked down the hallway warily. He felt sick after talking with Stevie's doctor. And now he was on his way to his wife where he was worried he would hear more bad news.

Her room couldn't be missed. Two DS agents were planted on each side of the door. He froze, staring into her room through the large window. His heart dropped seeing her lying there motionless, gazing blankly upwards at something nonexistent.

Henry stood in front of the door planning what he would tell her about their daughter's condition. He needed to choose his words carefully to avoid worsening her anxiety. By what Matt had told him, Elizabeth had suffered a severe panic attack.

"Dr. McCord." A female voice sounded from behind. Henry whipped around. His heart sped up, nervous for an update. "I'm Lucy Aldner, your wife's doctor." The woman introduced herself offering out her hand.

Henry shook her hand out of habit before skipping over the pleasantries. "Is Elizabeth okay?" He questioned desperate for an answer.

The Doctor paused for a moment, thinking about her response before replying. "Of course I don't know all the details of what occurred at The White House, but when Secretary McCord was brought in…" The woman trailed off. She shook her head not knowing where her statement was going. "Physically, your wife will be fine." Henry audibly sighed in relief. "She's scraped up pretty bad. She had a gash on her forehead that required stitches, along with a large laceration on her forearm. And she has some major bruising on her abdomen and left shoulder. She'll be sore for a while…" Lucy paused making sure Henry had heard the first rambling of information.

"We took her upstairs for a CT scan just to make sure everything was in order and nothing was broken. It all came back clear… We did diagnose her with a mild concussion, but when I say mild I mean very very mild. She shouldn't have any problems other than maybe a few headaches. She can take a regular dose of Ibuprofen or Advil if needed." Henry nodded at what she was telling him. "Now psychologically… When she came in she was in a state of hysteria almost. We gave her a low dose of diazepam to help her calm down… Dr. McCord has your wife ever had a panic attack?" Doctor Aldner asked softly.

Henry nodded slowly and sighed. "She's had a handful of minor ones over the past few years. But five years ago she was diagnosed with PTSD after um a work trip to Iran."

"That would correspond with the symptoms she was exhibiting. She most likely had a post-traumatic stress episode." Lucy stated. The Doctor crinkled her eyebrows as she fingered through the papers on her clipboard. "Is there a reason her diagnosis wouldn't be included in her file?"

Henry swallowed hard. "There were certain people who wanted to keep it quiet." He admitted.

Lucy pursed her lips showing her disapproval of the action. "If she doesn't have a therapist already I highly encourage her to meet with one at least once a week for a few months. And I assume she has an anti-anxiety prescription?"

"Uh yes…" Henry looked down at his hands trying to recall the name of the specific drug. "Klonopin." He remembered.

Doctor Aldner nodded. "Great. I recommend her to take it. And I can refill the prescription if needed." She said as her pager let out a series of beeps. "If you'll excuse me." She walked down the hallway without another word.

Henry turned back towards the window, but this time as he looked in his wife wasn't alone. A nurse was by her side checking her vitals. Instead of interrupting he waited patiently outside. He walked through the doorway just as the young woman pushed the door open and exited the room.

"Liz." Henry said, letting the nickname slip, as he rushed to her bedside. She looked up at him tiredly, but he knew she was grateful to see him. Henry ran his hand through her matted hair, comforting her, before leaning down and softly pressing his lips to hers. "You're gonna be okay baby." He told her.

She pulled her head away from his, and glared up into his eyes. "Where's Stevie?" She questioned almost on the verge of tears. "No one will tell me anything." She added, voice breaking on the last word.

"I know and I'm sorry. I asked them not to tell you. I wanted to tell you myself." He told her, running a hand up and down her arm. She sucked in a breath hearing his words. He watched as the look of horror washed over her face. "No. No" He said realizing that she was probably assuming the worst. "She's in surgery." She gazed up at him with pleading eyes, needing him to give her more information. "Um her doctor told me that a shard of glass tore her artery, and that they're trying to prevent it from totally rupturing…. They haven't been able to stop the bleeding. It looks like she's gonna need a transfusion." Henry stuttered out. He stared down at her gauging her reaction; he didn't know what to expect.

Elizabeth inhaled a shaky breath of air as she threw a hand over her eyes. When Henry saw her bite her lip he knew what would follow. He grabbed her hand just as the tears started flowing freely. "Henry I'm scared." She muttered between cries.

"Me too babe." He admitted before he moved to sit on her bed. He pulled her close, wrapping her shaking frame into his arms. He rubbed a comforting hand along her back as he placed soft kisses into her hair. 'How would they get past this?' He asked himself as he held his weeping wife. Henry leaned his head atop Elizabeth's. This may be what finally broke her. Broke them. He let his own tears trek down his cheeks falling onto her blood streaked hair.

~MS~

Although her eyes were closed he knew she wasn't really asleep. There was no way. She was wound too tight to succumb to the much needed rest. He sat in an uncomfortable hospital chair next to her bed watching her, scared that if he looked away for even a second she would crumble.

Henry was startled from his reverie when her eyes suddenly popped open. The sound of the door clicking closed caused him to look over his shoulder. This was for the books. He'd never once in these past five years seen Russell Jackson speechless. But here he stood frozen, mouth slightly agape staring at the bruised, scraped, and stitched up Secretary of State.

"What the fuck happened?" Elizabeth spit out rather loudly as she attempted to sit up. Henry saw her struggling and instantly jumped up to help her. A simple 'I'm sorry' was muttered from Russell. It seemed the man didn't know how to respond to his wife's apparent wrath.

"I'm sorry?" Elizabeth yelled back. "My daughter's in surgery practically half dead and that's all you have to say?" She fired at the man. The President's chief of staff stayed silent, not responding to the ridiculous yet understandable outburst. Elizabeth shook her head at herself. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. None of this is your fault." She admitted. Elizabeth took a breath before asking, "What happened?"

Russell sighed. "It looks like an RPG was fired… FBI's quick and dirty assessment is a Hindu nationalist cell or possibly Pakistani ex-pats upset with the nuclear deal got off a lucky shot."

She nodded. Russell stood there for a moment simply staring at her before grabbing a chair and pulling it towards her hospital bed. "Tell me about Stevie" He requested as he sat down.

Elizabeth nodded before saying, "The artery in her back…." She began but was instantly cut off by Russell.

"No… Tell me about Stevie." He repeated, emphasizing the word about.


	3. Chapter 3

Fighter

Chap 3

AN: Since this was originally a one shot I'm finding it a bit difficult deciding where to break up the text into chapters. That's why this one's a bit shorter, and it may be a bit more boring, but I wanted E and H to have a moment, and start to express what E's thinking. Hope you enjoy! Thank you all for the very kind reviews! They really encourage me!

"I'm sorry that we've been fighting." Elizabeth mumbled, staring down at her lap. "I'm sorry too." Henry apologized, turning his head slightly to the left to look at her. He sighed loudly before saying, "If you would've just stayed a few extra minutes this morning…"

"If I would've stayed a few extra minutes Stevie would be dead right now." She told him. Henry looked at her shocked, but Elizabeth wasn't paying attention to his facial expression. Instead she brought her hands up in front of her face remembering how just a few hours ago they were stained a bright red. "There was so much blood Henry." She murmured. It was barely above a whisper. He realized then that she was still in a state of shock from the traumatic event. "I tried pushing on her back, but the bleeding wouldn't stop. And before I even knew what was happening Matt was pushing me out the door… I… I left her Henry." She admitted. He could hear the shame in her voice. He let her words soak in as he watched her movements for a moment. She nervously wrung her hands. A clear sign of her anxiety.

He wanted to help her. He always encouraged her to open up and talk with him. He knew she was still in a delicate state of mind, but he wouldn't stand for her blaming herself. He couldn't. This was in no way her fault. And my god the only reason Stevie was in surgery right now rather than the morgue was because of his wife's actions earlier. He knew. He was filled in by security of what really happened. But he also remembered the way she reacted when she was dubbed 'the hero' of the story last time.

Henry found himself on his knees kneeling down in front of her. "Elizabeth." He began, but she didn't look up from her lap. "Baby, what you did today… You saved Stevie's life." He told her gently.

She closed her eyes harshly at his words, and huffed out a breath. Henry opened his mouth to continue, but the series of beeps emitted from his phone interrupted. With his eyes still on his wife, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He sighed seeing the notification. Another text from Allison.

He had called the kids a few hours earlier to attempt to calm them down. He knew it was impossible that they hadn't seen the news. The footage of the thick black smoke hovering above The White House had been playing on nearly every news station on repeat all day. He felt guilty in that moment realizing they'd been at home alone since the incident. He knew how Allison was, and even if Jason didn't always show it he knew the teen was probably just as frightened.

He looked up at her from his position on the ground. "Babe." He said. He wasn't surprised when she continued staring straight ahead at some spot on the nearby wall. "Elizabeth." Henry called, grabbing her hand. She reacted to his soft touch, gazing downwards and meeting his eyes.

He had to hold back his gasp when she finally looked at him. He could see the exhaustion on her face. Could see the tension in her shoulders. Could see the bags under her eyes. He knew what a panic attack did to her. It was like having the wind knocked out of you. She needed to go home. "Sweetheart you should go home." He whispered.

She instantly stiffened. She was taken aback that he would even suggest that she leave. "No." She protested. "Stevie's…" She began but her husband decided to talk over her.

"In surgery. And could be for another five to six hours." He finished as he rose from the floor, planting himself in the chair next to her.

"I'm not leaving." She declared firmly. Her mind was clearly made up.

"You were discharged two hours ago, Elizabeth. You heard the doctors. You need to rest. Your body must be aching. You need to sleep. Please for me." He pleaded. "Go home and get out of those clothes." Henry told her. He couldn't imagine having to slip the torn and bloodied outfit back on, but she didn't even seem to realize her attire.

When she didn't reply he decided he'd have to play to her maternal instincts. It was always the easiest way to persuade her to do something. "The kids need you. They need to see you. Need to know you're okay." Henry explained. This got her attention.

"Okay." She murmured after a minute. Henry sighed in relief. She was always so stubborn. "I promise I'll call you the second I hear anything." He commented before gently wrapping her in a hug and placing a kiss on her forehead.


	4. Chapter 4

Fighter

Chap 4

AN: apparently the story didn't say I updated it last night. I'm not sure why, but make sure you read the last chapter before reading this. Please review!

It was nearly midnight when she walked into her house. "Thanks Matt." She mumbled as the diplomatic security agent closed the front door for her. She toed off her heels once she stepped into the foyer. It was a relief she no longer had to wear the painful shoes. The once white pumps were splattered with dots of red; just another reminder of the day's events.

As Elizabeth flipped the switch for the hallway light she heard the frantic rush of footsteps on the stairs. She sighed. She had been hoping they were both asleep. Of course she didn't know how they could be. Was it selfish of her to not answer any of their questions and head to bed?

"Mom!" Ally nearly yelled as she came barreling into her mother. Elizabeth instinctively wrapped her daughter in a loving embrace, hoping to comfort the child. "I was so scared." Allison admitted through her tears. It didn't take long for Ally's cries to turn into full on sobs. Elizabeth hushed her, mumbling 'everything's gonna be okay', but will it? It took a few minutes for the young girl to calm down. Once her breathing was somewhat even Elizabeth pushed her youngest daughter back a step so she was able to wipe her tears away, wishing she could do the same with her pain.

She heard the loud gasp fall from her daughter's lips, and instantly knew what she was staring at. "I'm fine." Elizabeth tried to reassure her although her ripped and bloodied clothes were telling a different story.

"Is that Stevie's?" Ally questioned, referring to the blood covering the majority of her mother's blouse and pants. Elizabeth couldn't bring herself to answer.

"Is she gonna die?" A male voice asked bluntly. Elizabeth looked over her daughter's shoulder to see Jason hovering by her and Henry's office door. She gravitated towards him immediately.

Elizabeth wrapped an arm around his back, and rested her head atop his shoulder. "I hope not baby." She said weakly. She pulled away after kissing her son's forehead. "Stevie's a healthy young woman, and some of the best doctors in the country are doing everything in their power to help her." She tried to sound confident, but her voice wavered at the end.

"Have you both eaten? Because I can… cook um…" She was struggling to come up with a food that she wouldn't burn or destroy, but she felt as if she needed to do something for her two kids. She ran a hand over her forehead, wincing when her fingers came into contact with the bandaged wound above her eyebrow. She was flustered. "We're fine mom." Jason answered, hoping to settle her.

"Are you sure? Because I know I can't cook very well or bake either or really anything in the kitchen but if you're hungry…." She rambled on.

Ally took a step forward towards her mother, and laid a hand on her forearm. The young girl knew if someone didn't stop her she could ramble on and on for hours. "I'm actually pretty tired. How about you go and shower, and come and check on us afterwards." She suggested. Elizabeth's eyes darted from her daughter to her son, not knowing what to do. She felt helpless. All she could do was nod.

~MS~

Her muscles ached to the bone. Even the small task of ascending the staircase caused her pain. From the top of her head to the tips of her toes everything hurt. Her body was feeling the need to remind her she'd been thrown halfway across a room this morning.

After successfully making it up the stairs and into the privacy of her bedroom, she debated whether to simply go to bed and pray that sleep would come, or take her daughter's suggestion. She decided that a shower was just what she needed.

She nearly tripped over the suitcase still sitting by their bathroom door. Her bag that she had yet to unpack from their weekend away. She found it very hard to believe that her family had just been in Martha's Vineyard, happy as could be. Smiles gracing their faces while laughter filled the air. All of them. Together as a family. It was funny how fast life could change. She flipped on the switch to their en suite before walking and turning the shower on, setting the water temperature to nearly blazing.

As she waited for the water to heat up she took a step in front of the vanity to set her wedding rings on the counter; they needed to be soaked in some sort of cleaning solution to rid the metal of the specks of blood. Before she could step away from the sink she looked upwards and nearly recoiled at her appearance.

With this being the first time she'd looked in a mirror since this morning, she was shocked. This was much worse than expected. She couldn't be looking at herself. This wasn't her. My god. As she fingered a tendril of her matted hair she wondered if she looked this way after Iran. She looked so pale. The lack of color on her skin made all the patches of red littering her clothes stand out even more. She looked awful. Straight out of a horror film. Her heart sank; she must have terrified the kids.

When Elizabeth's eyes roamed downwards surveying the rest of her outfit she nearly lost it. She couldn't stand to be in these clothes another minute. She quickly undressed, throwing the ruined articles of clothing into a heap on the floor, and walked into the shower.

She stepped under the stream of water, letting it wash away the pain of the day. She winced as the water hit her stitched up forearm. The thought that she probably shouldn't be getting the wound wet quickly came and went. She didn't care enough. The only thing that occupied her mind right now was Stevie. The situation that was currently unfolding horrified her. She mentally scolding herself, remembering how she vowed to not let her mind travel down that dark path until they heard back from the doctor. She tried to push her thoughts down, but her son's words repeated in her head. 'Is she gonna die?' Elizabeth couldn't even consider that as a possibility. She wouldn't. Not yet.

Elizabeth looked to the left when she heard the door click open. She knew Jason wouldn't dare come in the bathroom while she was showering, so that left one person. "Ally?" She called. She assumed it's her daughter, but she can't see through the steamed up glass.

"Sorry. I'm just grabbing your clothes to get them in the wash." She replied. Elizabeth sighed. Jesus she was being so thoughtful. She didn't understand how her nineteen year old was functioning better than she was.

"Don't bother." Elizabeth responded. She closed her eyes attempting to regain control of her emotions. "Throw them away." She told her. "Throw it all away." She mumbled.

~MS~

"Everything's gonna be okay, okay?" Elizabeth mumbled into her daughter's hair. Allison nodded into her mom's shoulder, not caring that her tears were soaking through the thin cotton of her shirt.

"You should sleep." Ally declared as she slightly rolled out of her mother's grasp and over to the edge of the bed. The young girl effortlessly reached up and flipped the bedside lamp off.

"Snuggle with me." Elizabeth demanded softly, opening her arms for her youngest daughter. Ally reclaimed her position without a thought. She needed her mom, but she knew her mom needed her more tonight.

Just as the two settled into a comfortable position the door to the bedroom creaked open; her son stood in the doorway clutching his pillow to his chest. "Jace?" Elizabeth questioned, nearly groaning as she attempted to sit up. Her back ached.

"How am I supposed to sleep while I know Stevie's…" He trailed off not knowing how to finish the sentence.

"Come here baby." She motioned for him to join them on the bed. Jason turned and shut the door before taking the few short steps and laying down on his mother's right side. She kissed the top of his head after he settled into her embrace.

God she wished she could take their pain away. Take Stevie's pain away. She was probably so scared. She'd give anything to be in her daughter's shoes. She'd flip positions without a second thought if that meant Stevie would be unharmed. It should be her in surgery right now. Should be her lying in the hospital bed. Should be her on the brink of death. Not her twenty five year old daughter who'd barely experienced life.

"I thought you were dead." Jason whispered into the dark of the room. Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat hearing the words. "I've never been more scared in my life." He admitted. Elizabeth's grip on her son tightened, trying to comfort him through her actions when her words wouldn't come.

"I can't even imagine losing you or dad like how you lost your parents." Allison told her, snuggling further into her mother's side. "You're so strong mom." She added.

"Not as strong as you think baby." Elizabeth confessed, letting out a sob. Ally hugs her tighter. She closed her eyes willing herself to pull herself together. She wouldn't do this in front of her kids.

"I'm scared." Her daughter mumbled into her shoulder. Elizabeth inhaled a shaky breath before saying, "me too."

"It's bad isn't it?" He knew the answer, but Jason needed to hear it. Needed the words to come out of his mother's mouth. "It's bad." She confirmed. Voice barely above a whisper. She swallowed hard as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She pulled both her kids tighter against her sides, and kissed their foreheads, praying that Stevie would be okay.

~MS~


	5. Chapter 5

Fighter

Chap 5

AN: I have a bio and chem exam this week (keep me in your thoughts pls) so you guys won't be getting another update until next weekend :(. Enjoy! Oh and yes I did throw in a Hamilton quote. Bonus points for anyone who finds it :) Happy reading!

She nearly jogged down the hallway, DS agents on her heels. She couldn't stand another minute away from her husband; she was anxious to see him. She needed him to ground her. Needed him to settle this continuously growing ball of fear rooted in her stomach. She felt nauseous, dizzy, and her head was pounding. Of course all these symptoms could be caused by the mild concussion she attained from the blast, but she blamed it on the fact she was up all night worrying about the fate of her daughter's life.

"Room 501 ma'am." Matt reminded her as she bolted through the doorway. Frank nearly rammed into the back of her when she suddenly stopped in her tracks. She didn't know what she was expecting to see, but it wasn't this. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she silently stared at her daughter's motionless body.

How long had she been out of surgery? He was supposed to tell her when he knew something. He didn't tell her. Why didn't he tell her?

"Babe?" A hoarse voice mumbled from across the room. Her gaze darted from her daughter over to her husband who was rubbing his eyes; he'd clearly been dozing off. She watched as he quickly checked his watch before turning his attention back on her. "Its four thirty am, what are you doing here?" He asked.

"You promised to call me." Elizabeth muttered as she took the few steps to the hospital bed. She immediately took one of Stevie's hands into one of her own.

"I wanted you to sleep." He answered as his eyes wracked over her form. The bags under her eyes were very noticeable, and the worry lines on her forehead were more distinguished than usual. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail with a few pieces falling out of place. She wore a pair of jeans along with one of his old t-shirts. That last detail frightened him. She typically only chose to wear his clothing when she was missing him, or needed a reminder that he was always there for her. 'Maybe it had been a bad idea to send her home.' Henry considered. "Did you?" He questioned, referring to her sleeping at all.

"I couldn't even close my eyes." She admitted, still staring down at her daughter's pale and scraped up face.

"Baby come here." Henry softly commanded. Elizabeth fiddled with her wedding rings for a moment before standing and walking to the other side of the bed. She stood in front of him gazing down into his big brown eyes. "What… what did the doctor say?" She stuttered out.

Henry sighed, taking hold of both of her hands before speaking. "She said that they were able to repair the artery, and at the moment it's holding. But Stevie lost a lot of blood. She needed a transfusion."

Elizabeth nodded at his words. "Why isn't she awake?" She asked anxiously.

"Doctor Aldner said they gave her some type of meds to keep her calm, and that she'll wake up when she's ready." Henry informed her.

"But she will wake up right? They said that?" Elizabeth questioned. She needed to hear that Stevie would be okay.

"Liz." He called, using the old nickname. He could see that she was struggling to hold back her tears. She shook her head, as she slid down onto his lap. He instantly wrapped his arms around her shaking frame.

"Henry this is all my fault." She cried, gripping the front of her shirt. "I demanded that Stevie be in the room for the signing… I thought it would be something cool for her to see… She wouldn't be lying here if it weren't for me." She sobbed.

"Baby you can't blame yourself for this. You had no idea this was gonna happen." He tried to reassure her. To show her that this was in no way her fault. But this didn't surprise him. She was always so hard on herself. She picked apart each and every situation that went awry, finding a way to place the blame on her own shoulders. He'd seen her this way a handful of times. The most prominent event being 9/11. But this time around her emotions were much more all over the place being as their own daughter was involved. Add her PTSD to the mix, and you have a very keyed up and emotional Elizabeth McCord.

She sucked in a shaky breath as she clutched at the front of her shirt. Henry could tell she was struggling. He began gently rubbing a hand along her arm as he counted to four and back, helping her to breathe evenly. He prayed this was enough to ward off her looming panic attack.

She followed his instruction, trusting him to help her. She moved one of her hands to rest flat against his chest. Her palm was precisely placed over his heart. She counted the number of beats. The mindless task helped her focus on something other than her overwhelming fear. The thump thump of Henry's heart reminded her that he was there. Forever and always. She knew she'd never be alone.

He kissed the side of her head once her breathing had evened out. She sniffled a few times before saying, "Henry, what have I done to our sweet children?"

~MS~

She stayed by her bedside all day. Doctors and nurses came in frequently checking Stevie's vitals, and occasionally gave them an update on her condition. Always the same. No change.

Henry roamed the hallways at least once every two hours. It seemed he couldn't sit still. Or maybe he just needed to focus his mind on something other than the fact that their daughter was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. She was quite the opposite. She stayed rooted in an uncomfortable chair, rubbing a hand along Stevie's arm or sometimes her cheek. Her mind was too restless to sit here unmoving. But her body was exhausted, and she couldn't even imagine leaving Stevie for a single second. She didn't dare take her eyes off her daughter.

Henry was worried about her. She hadn't moved all day. Had barely mumbled more than a few words since she first arrived. She wouldn't eat. She hadn't even touched the pastries from her favorite bakery Blake had dropped off.

He stared at her for a moment before pulling up another chair right next to her and sat down. He was quiet for a minute before he softly asked, "What are you thinking?" He knew if she bottled up all her feelings, all her fearful thoughts, it wouldn't be good. She needed to talk… even if she didn't want to.

"The unimaginable." She muttered squeezing her eyes shut. "This is the moment where the words can't reach. This is the suffering that's too terrible to name." She said aloud while a single tear rolled down her cheek. Her words seemed odd, like she was quoting someone or maybe it was simply her tone that threw him off. "She has to survive." Elizabeth choked out.

Henry rested a hand on her shoulder, hoping his touch would comfort her. "What if she has long lasting injuries? What if she has PTSD?" Elizabeth asked hoping to god that Stevie wouldn't suffer from the disorder that's already caused herself so much pain.

"We'll get her through it. Together. All of us." Henry answered.

"What if we have to live with the unimaginable?" She couldn't even say the words. Henry didn't respond. He didn't know how to. Elizabeth sighed, gripping Stevie's hand a bit tighter.

The small room was filled with silence until it wasn't. The steady beep beep of the heart monitor suddenly sped up to an alarming rate causing Elizabeth to look up at the screen. She saw the random up and down pattern, almost like zig zags, before seeing the line take a sharp dip before flattening out. The beeping of the monitor went crazy. "Henry." She gasped as a handful of doctors and nurses came running through the doorway.

"Code blue!" A man yelled as they rushed towards their daughter. Elizabeth quickly pushed up out of the chair, taking a step backwards. "She's in asystole." A nurse declared after reading the patient's past heart readings.

Elizabeth placed her hands over her heart; she was scared to death. Henry quickly grabbed her up in his arms. She buried her head into his chest as she gasped for air. "Get them out of here!" Someone yelled, referring to the McCord parents. But they didn't budge. Elizabeth couldn't look away.

"One two three clear!" A male doctor yelled before taking two paddles to their daughter's chest. Elizabeth whimpered when Stevie's limp body arched upwards after the shock. "Nothing." A nurse said. Elizabeth's grip on Henry's bicep grew tighter.

"Again. Charge to three hundred!" The doctor commanded before yelling 'clear' and shocking their daughter for the second time. "We've got a strong and even beat." A nurse announced. Elizabeth let out the breath she'd been holding before looking up at Henry. He had unshed tears in his eyes. Her mouth was agape. She was unbelieving of what they'd just witnessed. She shook her head, eyes still connected with her husband, before letting out a heart wrenching sob. Henry pulled her tighter against his body; muffling her cries against his chest. He rested his head atop hers, letting his tears fall along with his wife's.

~MS~


	6. Chapter 6

Fighter

Chap 6

AN: Hey all! I apologize for the delay. Switching from writing lab reports to writing creatively and vice versa has proven to be difficult for me… But here's the last chapter just in time for the season six premiere! Oh my gosh I can't believe that's really happening tomorrow. Thinking about the end of the show has been making me sad because I have so many ideas and stories planned out :( I hope you all will still read them. Anyways here you go. I'm not too happy with the end, but I feel like I never am. Happy reading!

"Could you just stop for like a second?" Jason spat out angrily. Ally paused but only for a mere moment before continuing on with her task. It seemed that she had inherited her mother's need to work her hands raw scrubbing away, cleaning already spotless surfaces when she was stressed. After finishing the handful of dishes in the sink she had moved onto the countertops.

"Since when do you actually do your homework?" Allison eyed her brother as she ran the soapy sponge over the island. She was careful to avoid his papers. Jason briefly looked up from his history textbook before returning his gaze downwards, and quickly jotted something down in his notebook.

"Since mom and dad aren't here to hassle me about it." He muttered quietly. Ally suddenly stopped her movements and sighed. This was hard on everyone, but she felt for her little brother. This was the first time he was getting the full story not a watered down version. Their parents were so shaken they hadn't even tried to shelter him from this whole mess. "It's gonna be okay." She told him.

His head whipped up from his book. "Is it?" He replied firmly. "Because mom has that look in her eyes… the same look she had after Iran. And dad's wandering around looking lost." Jason said before returning his attention to his homework.

"Jace…" Ally began, but the piercing ring of the landline caught their attention. "I'm sure that means he's here. We shouldn't keep him waiting." Allison said as she tossed the sponge into the sink.

~MS~

Elizabeth gave as much of a smile as she could muster when she saw her children walking down the hallway. She was truly grateful to see their faces. Seeing them always made her feel better.

Allison rammed into her mother just as expected, but what surprised her was the way Jason clutched on for dear life when she engulfed her youngest into a hug. "Where's dad?" Ally asked.

"He'll be back; He's getting us some coffee." Elizabeth answered. "Where's…" She trailed off. Her question was answered when Conrad rounded the corner. He sadly smiled at his friend.

Elizabeth turned to her children and nodded towards the door to Stevie's room. She kissed the top of their heads before encouraging them to go sit with their sister. "Thanks for bringing them here." She appreciated his very kind offer.

"It was really no problem; I was headed here anyways." He told her. "How are you holding up?" Conrad asked after the door clicked closed. Elizabeth shrugged, really not knowing how to respond.

"All we can do is wait right now." She said, before she turned her head slightly to the left and peered into her daughter's room. After a moment she stepped up to the window, watching as Jason and Ally sat with her eldest. Conrad followed suit and took the few steps forward. They stood side by side.

"She flat lined this morning." Elizabeth announced. She didn't know why, but she felt the need to tell him. "It was the hardest thing I've ever had to watch." She admitted.

He whipped his head to the left to look at his friend; his mouth hung open due to his surprise. He'd been briefed on Stephanie McCord's condition, but this 'small' detail was left out. "Do they know why it happened?" He questioned softly.

"They're not sure." She answered calmly before dryly chuckling. "Comforting isn't it?"

He couldn't even imagine what she was going through right now. Her mind must be going in fifty different directions. "I'm sorry." He mumbled after a moment.

"You weren't the one who launched an RPG at The White House." She said still staring straight ahead.

"No. But I was the one who gave you this job in the first place." Conrad explained. Elizabeth sighed. He was thinking the same way she was. She fiddled with the hem of her t-shirt before bringing her right hand upwards to gently rub her temple, urging her raging headache to subside.

"You know Russell's walking round the west wing a bit lost… I think he relied on your daughter a lot more than he's coped to." The President informed her, hoping he was saying the right things. The last thing he wanted was to upset her even more. When her lips curved slightly upwards he knew his remark was acceptable. "She works very hard." Elizabeth stated.

They stood in silence for a moment; the hospital personnel roaming about served as background noise. "I can still remember the first time her and Harrison broke curfew." The President commented. This made Elizabeth laugh.

"Oh my god yeah." She exclaimed. "I recall getting that phone call from Henry and Lydia asking us where the hell our kids were." Elizabeth chuckled. "Just another typical late night at Langley." She added.

"I still can't believe you had George track Harrison's car." Conrad shook his head in amusement.

Elizabeth's mouth dropped in disbelief. "If I remember correctly that was you, Director Dalton." She teased, pointing a finger at her boss.

He held up his hands knowing she was right. "Those two… they caused a lot of trouble. Caused us a lot of trouble." He declared, emphasizing the word us.

"But we wouldn't trade them for the world." Elizabeth interjected as a man rounded the corner of the hallway. He mumbled a 'Mr. President' as he held out a cell phone that he obviously wanted Conrad to take.

"I'll only be another minute." He waved off the Secret Service agent. "You keep me updated on her condition." The man commanded as he pulled her into a tight hug.

"Thank you for stopping by. I really appreciate it." She said into his shoulder. She sighed as they parted. She could feel herself falling. Her aching muscles were deciding to make themselves known.

"Russell's seemed to have taken the reins over at State. Everything's being taken care of; Don't worry about a thing." He told her. She nodded. She hadn't even given her job a mere thought over the past two days. "Take all the time you need. And if you need anything, call and you have it." Conrad softly patted her shoulder; it was a friendly gesture.

"I just need my daughter back." She muttered.

He smiled sadly, still unbelieving of this entire situation. "Take care of yourself Bess."

~MS~

Henry studied her as she sat staring blankly ahead. She had put up a front with the kids and maybe even Conrad, but once alone in this dark colorless room she retreated back into her grieving self. She wouldn't talk, or at least wasn't ready to do so.

But her façade was slipping. It was nearly midnight. She had to be exhausted. He caught onto her little 'routine' quickly. She'd tap her fingers against the wooden part of her chair before spinning her wedding rings around her finger a handful of times. And every once in a while she'd take a sip of the cup of green tea which he was sure had gone cold.

She'd done this a countless number of times. She was stuck in a pattern. Just as they both were. Stuck. Sitting. Waiting. Watching. Tap. Spin. Sip. She never faltered… until she did. It was subtle. So subtle no one else other than him could have noticed the small furrow of her brow. "What are you thinking?"

No answer. He couldn't even be sure that she'd heard him, but he sat, waited, and watched. "Just processing." She whispered. Henry froze, unsure if she had actually spoken or if his mind was imagining her response. But when her fingers stopped tapping and she slightly glanced in his direction he knew that she had actually answered.

He simply nodded. His tired mind couldn't find a reply worth giving. And they were back. Back into the never-ending pattern. Tap. Spin. Sip. Silence. He hated it. Growing up in a busy household he never knew what quiet was. It was always loud. There was always something to fill the void.

"I made an appointment to see Dr. Sherman tomorrow." She revealed. Henry whipped his head to the left staring at the side of his wife's face. He was surprised… shocked even. He'd have to drag her by her hair to get her to go to therapy. She would never willingly go at his suggestion. Maybe this meant that she was truly okay, being as she was making a reasonable decision for herself. Or maybe the opposite. Maybe this meant she was completely broken. "That's good sweetheart." Henry assured.

"She'll want you to come with me at least once in the next few weeks… you know how she is…" Elizabeth whispered. He could tell that she was a bit embarrassed admitting that she, herself, was seeking the support of a therapist. Henry knew this was hard for her. Even after everything she's been through asking for help was still an issue. She has always and will always be stubborn. It was in her blood.

"I think that's a good idea." Henry reassured her. She didn't acknowledge his reply. But he wasn't going to let the quiet swallow them up again. He couldn't. As Henry sat there staring at the off white tile flooring debating what to say next he heard it. The soft tapping of her fingertips. Tap. Spin. Sip. He looked slightly to the left watching as the fingers of her right hand lightly bounced atop the arm of the chair. Tap. Spin… but she didn't get a chance to reach for the cup of green tea. He grabbed her hand stopping the cycle. He'd had enough. He couldn't stand seeing her like this. Couldn't stand to see her hurting. Elizabeth didn't even flinch at the contact. Didn't even look up. "Baby. She's gonna be okay."

She shook her head. "You don't know that." She mumbled, strongly disagreeing with her husband.

"Didn't you hear the doctors? They said she's getting stronger." Henry fought, trying to convince her that their daughter was in fact going to be okay.

"That doesn't mean anything." She said firmly almost raising her voice. She was being defensive, but why? Henry's eyebrows knitted in confusion. He was utterly perplexed why she was acting this way.

The room was silent for a moment, but only because Henry could see that Elizabeth was working herself up to say something. She had that look, the look, on her face. She was going back and forth on something. She was always running equations through her head, substituting different variables to come up with every possible outcome. It never surprised him that she was a math major.

"My um my mom… the car accident… she didn't die at the scene." She stuttered out. It took her a moment before she continued. "Will and I sat in a hospital room with her for five days before she…" After all these years she couldn't bring herself to say the words. "The first two days the surgeons were preparing us for the worst, but on the third day things unexpectedly took a turn for the better. The fourth day she was breathing on her own. The doctors had hope… We had hope. The nurses told us if she kept progressing at the rate she was she'd be home by the end of the week." Elizabeth took a deep breath before she went on. "The fifth day Aunt Joan drove us home to put together a change of clothes for mom. We were barely gone an hour. When we got back to the hospital she was dead… We never had the chance to say goodbye." She mumbled the last part. "So forgive me if I'm not so quick to believe what the doctors have to say." She added.

He could hear the tears in her voice. Could see the tension in her shoulders. It all made sense. Her behavior towards the medical staff. Her disdain regarding Stevie's diagnosis. This 'little' piece of backstory served as an explanation for some of her actions. Henry hesitated at first, but finally said, "You've never told me any of this."

"It's easier not to talk about." She whispered. She stared down at her lap, fiddling with her fingers. A clear sign of her anxiety. He wished he could help her.

"Although I can't promise you the final outcome of this whole thing with Stevie, I can promise you that we'll be there for each other." Henry grabbed her hand again. He needed the contact. "My love for you is unconditional." He told her. He meant every word; He hoped she knew that.

She stood suddenly, back towards him. He worried for a moment that he'd said something wrong. The last thing he wanted was to upset her more. But she whipped around, immediately connecting their eyes. Her usually deep blue orbs were a cloudy grey. He was always able to tell how she was feeling by the color of her eyes. He would do anything to make them sparkle again.

She took the mere two steps forward, putting herself directly in front of him. And she broke. She fell into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I love you so much Henry McCord." She choked out through her tears.

"I love you too." He mumbled against her lips before ever so slowly letting their mouths meet in the softest of kisses.

After pulling away she let her head fall back against his shoulder while she gripped the front of his shirt. She nuzzled her face into the side of his neck, breathing in his scent. Henry rubbed her back as she wept; he was sure to be gentle with her still sore muscles.

"She's so young Henry. She has her whole life ahead of her. She's so smart, she's gonna do so much, but she has to have the chance… She's barely lived." Elizabeth cried. She was only a child. Her child. Their child. "This is all my fault." She muttered into her husband's shoulder.

They fell into a silence, but this one was different. Elizabeth's routine was no longer. No tap. No spin. No sip. She was mentally there with him. They were together. The only sound that rang through the room was the constant beeping of the heart monitor and his wife's occasional sniffle.

"Why do you always make everything about you?" Elizabeth's eyes widened. She and Henry simultaneously jerked their heads to the left. She let out a gasp seeing her daughter's eyes open. Both parents hurriedly jumped out of the uncomfortable chair and leapt to her bedside.

"Baby." Elizabeth said as she gently brushed a strand of Stevie's hair away from her face. A fresh set of tears welled up in her eyes. But this time not from fear… from relief. Elizabeth gave a watery smile as she watched as her husband leaned down and kissed the top of their eldest head.

"This wasn't your fault." Stevie rasped out. Elizabeth sighed as she shot Henry a look. He understood immediately. He moved away from the bed before quickly returning with a cup of water. He brought the glass to Stevie's lips, letting her take a few sips. Her throat had to be dry from the lack of liquids.

"You can't blame yourself for things that are out of your control." Her daughter told her. And with all her might Stevie grabbed her mother's hand. "You don't need to worry anymore." She said softly.

"Stephanie…" Elizabeth trailed off. She stared down. Blue eyes connected with blue eyes. She truly believed she wouldn't have the chance to see those beautiful blue eyes again.

"Mom I'm gonna be fine." Stevie fought.

"She's right babe." Henry agreed as he laid a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "She's a fighter." He added.

"I learned from the best." Stevie mumbled while looking up at Elizabeth.

"I should get the doctor." Henry announced before promptly exiting the room, leaving the two women by themselves.

Elizabeth swallowed deeply before asking, "Do you remember what happened?" Elizabeth noticed the way Stevie's eyes suddenly left her own. Her daughter stared downwards at the bedspread, averting her gaze.

"Bits and pieces." The young girl admitted. Elizabeth sighed. She knew this would be a long and hard recover. "But I don't want to talk about that now." Stevie declared.

Elizabeth nodded. She understood the pain. She wouldn't force her to open up… she knew how that felt. They'd talk when she was ready. "How… How do you do it? How are you so strong I mean?"

"Oh baby I'm not as strong as you think… It's the love and support from your father, Jason, Allison, and you that keep me going… You four are the reason I keep fighting."


	7. Chapter 7

AN: SURPRISE! One last chapter for this story. You asked so you shall receive. Be grateful because I wasn't planning on writing the ending to be as 'happy' as I did. Like all my other stories I like to bring E and others to a point where they are ready to heal not where they have actually healed. (keep that in mind). This should have been posted a while ago but chem and bio are kicking my butt. So I'm sitting here at 12:08 am putting the final touches on this (long) epilogue. The next month (with the third round of midterms and then finals coming up) will be very busy for me. But I have a lot of one shots and multi chaps in mind and of course I didn't forget about 'here for you'… (I'm very sorry about that) You should be seeing more of me in December. I have a whole month off! Please Please Please tell me what you think of this chap. Your reviews just make my whole day :) I encourage you all to keep writing and as always happy reading!

Fighter

Epilogue

"Healing is not an overnight process. It takes time. Sometimes you'll feel like you're finally over something and happy again, and the wound will reopen. Don't give up, don't get discouraged. Take each day one step at a time. Just try to be in a better place mentally and emotionally than you were yesterday."

~MS~

It'd been raining in Washington for the past three days. The usually beautiful blue sky was painted a gravel grey. It seemed when this type of weather rolled in every single person in Washington forgot how to go about their normal day to day lives. She never understood why people hated the over casted cloudy grey skies which was also accompanied by a slight breeze that always seemed to ruffle her hair.

She had to listen to the repeated complaints from Matt about his soggy shoes. She couldn't recall how he had seemed to misplace the single umbrella he owned. Daisy whined about her stack of papers that was ruined by her dash from the taxi to the doors of The State Department. The black lines of ink seeped into the next, creating black smears down all the pages. She found herself rolling her eyes at the moans and grumbles from her staff over the fact how the 'unbearable' weather was such a 'huge' inconvenience for their lives.

It never bothered her. Not one bit.

She could still vividly remember the many rainy afternoons throughout the spring season where she spent the majority of the evening outside with Will. She smiled at the memory. God they were so young… so innocent. They'd run up and down the yard for hours. Will always ended up shedding the raincoat their mother forced him to put on. Time after time she told him he would get a cold if he refused to wear the extra layer. He never listened.

Susie Adams always appeared on the front porch attempting to lure the pair in for dinner. They relentlessly begged for five more minutes. When Lizzie heard the crunching sound of her father's car coming up the gravel drive, she would look at Will and squeal, 'Daddy's home!'.

The bright headlights shined compared to the foggy surroundings. They waited patiently for the Mercedes to come to a stop before running to the driver's side of the vehicle. Benjamin Adams swung the door open; a big bright smile graced his face. 'You two are gonna catch colds out in this weather.' He teased. Although it was now only slightly drizzling, the air was still chilly.

'You sound like mom.' Will complained. He never ceased to talk back to their parents no matter the topic. 'Well she's right.' Ben told him as he shut the car door. 'And William I know your mama told you to put that raincoat of yours on.' He said as he ruffled his fingers through the young boy's sopping head of hair.

'And how's my little Lizzie today?' Ben asked as he picked his daughter up and twirled her around. They both melted into a fit of giggles. 'It's raining daddy.' Lizzie stated happily. Both father and daughter turned their gazes up towards the sky. 'Yes it is baby.' He said before placing a kiss on her forehead. Looking back now she cherished those afternoons. Those rainy days held some of her fondest memories.

Elizabeth turned her gaze towards the window and sighed. God she hated this room. The way it made her feel. She felt like a fish in a fishbowl. Being observed like this… It seemed like they were waiting for her to slip. To say something that she couldn't take back. She wondered if this was how the people she interrogated felt. Although different circumstances, it was the same concept right?

She stared out through the glass watching as the rain swept across the sidewalk. She'd give anything to turn back the clock and be that bright eyed child splashing in the puddles one last time.

"How's your daughter?" It took a moment for the words to register in her mind, but once she realized she was just spoken to her eyes darted back towards the other woman.

"She's doing great. She has her second post op appointment tomorrow morning, and she started back at the White House last Tuesday." Elizabeth answered plainly. Her voice was even, something she was trained to do. Conrad had her practice answering questions over and over until she could do it in her sleep or in a much darker situation that she didn't dare think about. But she could without a doubt beat a polygraph. She was good at her job… well her old job, but so was Kinsey.

Her tone wasn't the issue, it was the twitching of her fingers and the subtle glance down towards her feet that gave her away. "And that bothers you?" Kinsey questioned.

Elizabeth rose her eyebrows as she eyed the woman. She didn't want to answer her questions. Didn't want to play this back and forth game of her trying to coerce her deep and dark feelings out of her. "I can't help but worry that it'll happen again." She muttered.

Dr. Sherman jotted something down quickly before looking up from her notebook. But her patient had this look on her face…. It was hard to put into words. Distant was probably the best adjective. She gazed off to the side, seeming to be staring at some imaginary spot on the wall. "The explosion?" Kinsey asked, needing her to clarify, wanting her to explain further.

Elizabeth's attention snapped back to the present. She nodded.

Kinsey stared at her waiting for her to elaborate, but after more than a few moments of silence she realized no explanation would follow. "And what about you?" She asked, deciding to change the subject.

"What about me?" Elizabeth questioned back rather coldly. She was growing more frustrated by the minute. She didn't want to be here. She needed to be at The State Department. She had meetings to be scheduled. Papers to be signed. Phone calls to be made. But she sat here in front of a shrink in the hope that during one of these sessions she would magically be fixed.

"Has your doctor cleared you?" Dr. Sherman probed, knowing full well what the answer was.

"No." Elizabeth said plainly. She crossed her arms over her chest as she let out a huff of air. "She still wants me coming here twice a week." She added.

"I spoke with her. She told me you aren't taking your pills." Kinsey began. She had more to say but Elizabeth had a very strong opinion on the matter that she obviously wanted her to hear.

"I don't need them." She replied harshly, almost hissing the words.

"No, but they'd help." Kinsey observed her, examining every little movement she made. She watched as Elizabeth anxiously fiddled with her wedding rings, spinning the pieces of jewelry round and round her slim finger. "Why does this upset you? The thought of taking medication I mean."

The anger that had been bubbling up throughout her session finally boiled over the ledge of the make-believe pot. The question tipped her over the edge. Why couldn't they understand? None of them. Not Kinsey. Not Conrad. Not even Henry. "Everyone has readjusted. Why can't I?" She nearly screamed. Elizabeth licked her lips before continuing. "It's not fair. This isn't how it should be. I'm the parent I'm supposed to be the one…" She trailed off, turning her head to once again look out the window.

"You've been through a lot Elizabeth. You've seen a lot of trauma. And watching your child almost die is something that'll change you." Dr. Sherman said softly. She saw the subtle look of panic on her patient's face. She saw her breath catch in her throat. It seemed that she had put a crack into the indestructible surface that was Elizabeth. This was good. This was progress. She was beginning to express what she was feeling, the first step in the direction of recovery. "How are you and Henry?" She asked, broaching a new topic.

"Fine." She responded simply. She sighed knowing the answer wouldn't be satisfactory. 'Elaborate' She told herself. "He thinks I'm spending too much time at work." She explained.

"Well are you?" Kinsey questioned, wanting to know her opinion.

"With my job, no." Elizabeth bit her lip, mentally attempting to count the number of hours she'd spent at the office in the past two weeks. "I don't know, maybe." She said truthfully. "It's just it's hard to be home sometimes you know."

"Do you feel as if you're throwing yourself into your work to forget?" Dr. Sherman inquired. She'd spoken to Dr. McCord earlier this week, and he'd told her about his wife's ridiculous amount of overtime. He was worried. He'd called asking for more suggestions on ways to try to help her. And knowing Elizabeth's history the possible reason for working day in and day out was likely due to her need to cover up her personal problems.

"I work because I want to." Elizabeth replied. She knew that wasn't the answer she wanted.

"Henry called me earlier in the week." Kinsey told her. She paused for a moment, deciding if she wanted to say more, but she left the statement as is. She waited for Elizabeth's reaction.

She sighed. "He's a worrier. Always has been."

"I don't think his worrying is unwarranted." Dr. Sherman fought. She disagreed greatly. His concern was justified. She, along with her husband, could see that Elizabeth needed help. That's why she was here in the first place.

"He says this is another Iran… Worse than Iran. He thinks I'm gonna burn myself out." Elizabeth said quietly. She looked down at her lap where her hands rested. She instantly started pulling on her fingers, needing a distraction. It was a habit she had formed… she couldn't remember when.

"Do you agree with him?"

"Look my problem isn't whether I agree or disagree with my husband, my problem is that I can't look at my daughter without nearly having a panic attack." She grumbled. She'd had enough of this dancing around. Elizabeth shook her head as she rose from her spot on the couch. She took the few steps over to the window.

She watched as the rain rolled off the tops of all the cars lined up and down the street. It seemed the storm wasn't letting up. There wasn't a single person in sight. Her staff could overreact all they want, but a few stormy days didn't qualify as an issue… At least not for her. But oh how she wished the rain was the most of her daily problems.

~MS~

"I'm just saying maybe if you would spend as much time on your schoolwork as you do playing those video games you'd have straight A's by now. Maybe even be top of your class." Stevie told her younger brother. She pointed the wooden spoon she'd been using in his direction and rose her eyebrows playfully. She was ultimately trying to get a rise out of him while still arguing against his previous comment.

Jason rolled his eyes. "And what good would that do? I'd just be playing a part in the broken system. And don't even get my started on class rankings!" The teenager yelled from across the kitchen.

"Okay you two that's enough." Henry said, putting a stop to the sibling squabble. "Jason." He called, getting his attention. His son met his gaze after grudgingly prying his eyes away from his phone. "Set the table." Henry commanded.

"Can't Ally?" He complained, motioning to his sister sitting next to him who was also occupied by something on her phone screen.

"I asked you." Henry replied. Jason groaned before rising from his chair, and nearly stomped over to the cabinet. Henry shook his head at the teenager's dramatic reaction. There was no reason to pout over such a simple task.

The next five minutes the four McCords moved around the kitchen eagerly working to finish preparing their dinner. Creamy tomato and spinach pasta, Elizabeth's favorite. The recipe was very specific and sometimes even took a handful of hours to cook, but the outcome was well worth the work.

Over the sizzling of the pot of noodles, and of course the never-ending bickering of his children, he was able to hear the distinct rattle and thump of the front door opening and closing. He breathed out a sigh of relief knowing his wife had finally made it home. He'd been expecting her over an hour ago. Of course he knew she could've been pulled away -it's happened more times than he could count- but without his wife's knowledge he talks to Blake regularly… He knows her schedule, and today she had nothing pressing on her calendar. She should have been home on time. It was rare, but still possible. Then again, she should have been home at a decent hour the majority of days in the past two weeks, yet she never walked through the door before nine.

Henry called his eldest daughter's name and handed off the spoon he'd been using to stir the bubbling sauce and motioned for her to take over the task. He quickly wiped his hands on one of the dishtowels before tossing the cloth down on the countertop and made his way towards the foyer.

He rounded the corner in time to see his wife tossing her handbag to the ground. He was shocked by her appearance. Confused of what had happened before she'd walked through the door. "You're soaking wet." He stated, eyes raking up and down her form.

"I walked around the block." Her reply was monotoned. Her voice was even. Emotionless. Her lips formed a straight line. Not a smile. Not even a frown. He sighed realizing they were gonna play this game for the umpteenth time this week. All he was asking was for her to show just a sliver of what she was feeling.

"And you didn't feel like making use of that umbrella?" Henry asked as he stepped forward and grabbed the unopened umbrella that she grasped tightly in her right hand. His comment was meant to be lighthearted and teasing, but she didn't laugh. Didn't even crack a smile. He dropped the object into the umbrella stand near the door.

He took a step back and eyed her, watching on as she struggled to wrestle off her wet coat. "I was wondering where you got off to. I thought you may have headed back to State." He admitted.

"My session ran long." She murmured as she tossed her trench coat in the direction of the coat rack. The fabric failed to snag on one of the hooks and miserably slipped to the floor.

Henry's eyes followed her as she walked towards their office. "You called Kinsey." It wasn't a question, more of a statement. But he could tell when she wanted an answer, and by the slight hiss in her voice he knew she would demand a response if he failed to willingly give one.

Henry pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course she found out. He wasn't surprised in the slightest. Elizabeth flung open their office door and threw her briefcase towards her desk-the bag flopped on its side landing with a loud thud- before turning toward him. She placed her hands on her hips, silently telling him he needed to explain. She wasn't backing down.

He stuttered, unable to find his words for a moment. "I was worried about you babe… I still am." He admitted. He reached out to Dr. Sherman because he desperately wanted to help her. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel betrayed.

She rolled her eyes and spun to the left trudging towards the stairs. Her reaction reminded him of Jason. In ways those two were so much alike. "Yeah well thanks for talking to me instead of about me." She said, sarcasm dripping through her words.

Henry huffed. "You don't think I've tried." He rose his voice a bit more than what was probably acceptable considering their three children were in the next room over.

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks on the staircase and slowly turned around. She closed her eyes, and sighed. "I know. I'm sorry it's just…" She trailed off motioning around them with her hands. Words were lost on her.

Henry nodded showing that he understood the unspoken words. The unsaid pain. He swallowed deeply, and told her, "Look we're about to eat, it's your favorite, if you wanna…" He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder pointing in the direction of the dining room.

She shook her head. "I have this headache. I think I'm just gonna…" She looked up towards the top of the staircase.

This was all too familiar. He couldn't help but compare their current situation to Iran, but this time around it was worse. He didn't know if the reason being was due to the fact that the attack had been in their own backyard or because Stevie had been put into the middle of it all. But at the end of the day he knew he needed to do something before the wedge between them became too far to fix.

~MS~

The coil in his stomach grew tighter as he climbed the stairs. He shouldn't be nervous to speak with her, yet after having dinner with his kids he procrastinated checking on his wife. He didn't know what to expect when he stepped foot into their room. It was a guessing game. She hadn't been the same since the attack on The White House. Of course her emotions were within reason, but it comes to a point when being emotional crosses over to stronger feelings of anxiety and depression. With her already being diagnosed with PTSD he worried. She was struggling. Anyone could see that.

"Elizabeth?" Henry called. His heart skipped a beat realizing their bedroom was empty. His racing heart settled a bit seeing the light peeking out from under the door to their en suite. His footsteps were heavy as he crossed their room. He couldn't decide whether to leave her be or take the chance of angering her by his so-called hovering.

Although the door was cracked open, he lightly knocked. Hearing no response, he pushed the door open, and apprehensively peered his head in before fully stepping into their bathroom.

His heart nearly shattered at the image before him. "Elizabeth." He said trying to get her attention, but she didn't register his words. His wife sat in the bath knees pressed to her chest while her head rested against the ledge of the porcelain tub. She stared upwards at the ceiling. Her eyes were open, but she was someplace else.

Henry swallowed the bile that clawed at the back of his throat. In all their years he'd never once seen her like this. He was legitimately scared.

He set the glass of orange juice along with the plate of toast he'd brought her down on the countertop. The ceramic clattered against the granite. At the moment it was wishful thinking that she'd eat something.

He hesitantly took the few steps towards the bathtub and lowered himself down towards the floor, sitting upon the small step. He studied his wife for a moment before gently placing a hand atop her bare shoulder. Her skin was cool to the touch. He could guess the bathwater had gone cold ages ago. "Baby." He whispered softly, trying not to startle her.

He held his breath waiting… praying for a response. It took a moment, but her eyes flickered to his. After finally comprehending that her husband sat next to her, she swiftly sat up in the tub. Her fast movement caused some water to slosh over the side onto the floor. As she moved Henry had pulled his hand away almost as if he'd been burned. "You okay?" He questioned.

"Fine." She mumbled staring straight ahead. He didn't need to have any sort of spy training to know she was lying through her teeth. Her behavior today was evidence enough.

"Where were you a minute ago?" He asked regarding her spacing out. His question dared her to try to tell him that she was fine one more time. It was her infamous line. He'd heard the phrase at least a hundred times in the last two weeks.

"Nowhere." She replied quickly. "I'm just tired." She declared.

Henry backed off for now. He knew he was pushing her. And she could only take so much before lashing out. He sat silently observing her, noticing how her shaky fingers absentmindedly rubbed at the spot above her eyebrow where a week ago stiches used to be. "How's your head?"

"It hurts." She admitted, letting out a breath of air.

"I can get you some Advil." He eagerly offered, happy that he could help even if in one of the smallest ways. He made a move to stand, but Elizabeth reached her hand out over the ledge of the bathtub and grabbed his wrist.

"It won't help." She muttered, staring downwards into the water. "Kinsey said the pain's in my head… that I'm imagining it." Elizabeth pinched her thumb and pointer finger together and flicked them through the water. The small movement created a snapping sound, and sprayed water forward towards the foot of the tub. "Who does that? Makes themselves more miserable than they already are."

"Someone who's been through a lot." He answered honestly.

Her gaze snapped towards his. "But I haven't." She fought.

"Babe you have." Henry said softly. This was the issue. The heart of the whole problem. It happened last time. She thought of herself as the lucky one. She wasn't the one who had died in Iran. And she wasn't the one rushed into surgery from a life-threatening injury. In her mind she had it better than the others. Better than Fred Cole. Better than Stevie. She felt that since she wasn't as severely wounded then she didn't have the right to complain. She didn't want to accept that she was also hurt.

"I wasn't the one who almost died!" She argued. Her eyes were wild. It's the most emotion he'd see from her in weeks. "I should be fine." She mumbled.

"Don't compare your pain to other's." He wished she could see that she was allowed to be feeling this way. She was entitled to hurt just like everyone else. "It's not fair to yourself." He added.

"I just can't get the picture out of my head." She grumbled, clearly frustrated with herself. She wanted to forget, but the scene of Stevie laying lifeless on the floor of the Oval Office played over and over in her mind. The image was burned into the back of her eyelids. Elizabeth white knuckled the edge of the bathtub. Her grip looked painful. "I still struggle with everything that happened in Iran." She admitted.

Henry moved his hand atop of hers, showing his support. "That's understandable." He commented.

"But this… this is different. This is Stevie." Elizabeth sniffled. She was finally letting him in… letting her walls down. He gently squeezed her hand.

"You're gonna have to accept that you can't protect them from everything. I wish we could, but babe that's life." He told her. It was the truth. A hard pill to swallow as a parent, but still the truth. As a parent you can live in a constant state of fear for your child or reflect on the mistakes, embrace the good, and continue to pray for the best.

"I just worry about her. About them. It feels like if I even take my eyes off them for even a second…" She trailed off, seeming to lose her voice. Silence filled the bathroom for a few seconds before his wife turned to him, tears streaming down her face, and said, "I'm lost Henry."

He looked into his wife's usually blue orbs and was able to see all the pain, all the hurt… all the emotions she'd been hiding from him these past few weeks. It broke his heart seeing her so… broken.

He stood from the spot he'd taken up on the floor and moved across the room. He heard the small intake of air from his wife. He realized his movement towards the door probably caused her to believe he was leaving. But he simply plucked her bathrobe from the hook hanging on the back of the wooden door and walked right back to his wife's side. "Let me help you." He insisted.

She slowly nodded her head.

He motioned for her to stand, and she willingly followed his instructions. She stood up, letting some of the cold water drip from her body before stepping over the ledge of the tub. She shivered as the air came into contact with her damp skin.

He held her robe out for her. She turned, back towards him, and slipped her arms through the sleeves. He brought the material up and over her shoulders. Henry softly rubbed his hands up and down her arms attempting to warm her up as she tightly tied the belt around her middle.

Once finished, she turned in his arms, and gazed upwards, connecting their eyes. She saw so much love there. Her tears welled up again, she knew her eyes must be rimmed red. "I'm sorry for shutting you out." She apologized. "Sometimes it's just easier for me to not talk about it." She told her husband.

He stared down into her glassy eyes and the corners of his lips curved slightly upwards. His hand came up, landing on her cheek. His thumb softly stroked under her eye. "I'll always forgive you." He stated before kissing her forehead. He pulled back from her and took a step towards the door. He held out a hand, waiting for his wife to take it.

She stared at him anxiously, obviously nervous of what he had in mind. "Come with me baby." He said softly. Her eyes flickered down to his outstretched hand before flashing back to his comforting eyes. She grabbed his hand and followed him without any questions asked.

He led her through their room, out the door, and down the hallway. By the time they reached the stairs she could hear the laughter of her three children. Her heart instantly sped up. And that's when Henry stopped, halting at the top of the landing. He turned and stared at her. "Look." He instructed. Elizabeth swallowed as she stepped forward and peered over the banister. Her kids sat around the coffee table playing Scrabble. All three were giggling and teasing one another. Acting as if they were still all young children.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, urging the images of the attack to stay at bay. She was relentlessly trying to not to panic at the sight of her eldest child. Tears pricked her eyes again. The guilt that her own daughter had become one of her triggers ate away at her.

Henry stepped up behind his wife and held her by her shoulders. "Open your eyes." He whispered near her ear. It took her a minute, but eventually she blinked her eyes open. "Look at them." He commanded. "They're fine. More than fine." He said, keeping his voice down. "Stevie is okay, and you will be okay. I need you to be okay." He lovingly squeezed her shoulders, silently telling her that he was here with her. Forever and always.

~MS~

Elizabeth sat on the edge of Henry's half of the bed. Her feet hung off the side, almost touching the ground. He'd disappeared into the bathroom after helping her change into the fluffiest pair of pajama pants she owned and one of his old marine's t-shirt. She'd choose to sleep in one of his shirts over one of her own any day. It comforted her. Made her feel closer to him.

He emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, carrying a glass of water. He smiled sadly as he approached their bed. He knew this was gonna be a fight. He kneeled down in front of her and gazed upwards meeting her eyes. He held out the glass; she took hold of the cup without a second thought, raising it to her lips and taking a sip. The cold water slid down and coated her dry throat. That's when he unclenched his left fist revealing a tiny white pill. Her lips left the glass immediately. "No." She argued instantly raising her voice. She knew exactly what that pill was and she had absolutely no interest in partaking.

"Baby please. It will help you feel better." He told her, placing a comforting hand on her knee. He knew she'd resist, but right now she needed the medication.

She shook her head back and forth. "Henry no. I don't want to take it." She sounded like a scared child. He didn't blame her. He'd be absolutely furious if someone else was forcing him to take something he didn't want to. But she needed this. She wasn't in control anymore even if she believed she was. The anxiety and fear had taken over a long time ago.

"It'll help you sleep. You need sleep." He tried to convince her, but she didn't budge. "Trust me. Please Elizabeth for me." He pleaded. Blue eyes connected with brown. He could see the wheels turning round and round in that intelligent brain of hers. And then she nodded and stretched out an open palm. He sent up a quick thank you to god, relieved that she finally agreed, and placed the small capsule into the palm of her hand.

She stared at Henry as she filled her mouth with water, placed the pill into her mouth, and gulped the mouthful down. She closed her eyes and sighed. "Thank you." Henry murmured.

"Lay with me." Elizabeth said already rolling over to her side of the bed.

"Of course baby." Henry flipped the switch on the side lamp, pulled back the covers, and slipped into bed. He immediately slid behind Elizabeth and wrapped his arms around her middle. He nuzzled the side of her neck, peppered kisses up and down the side of her face. "Do you need anything else babe?" He whispered.

"Some cold pasta sounds amazing." She mumbled, her voice already a bit hoarse from dozing off. He chuckled quietly. It hardly surprised him that's the first thing that came to her mind.

"Alright sweetheart." He said, but he could already hear her snoring. He continued rubbing comforting circles along her back, and running his fingers through her golden locks, hoping to soothe her into a deeper sleep. He looked down at his sleeping wife with so much appreciation in his eyes. He admired this woman greatly. This incredibly stubborn, but incredibly strong woman. The woman who gifted him with three amazing children. The woman who's been through enough heartbreak to last a lifetime. The woman he loved with his whole heart. God he had so much love for her. He'd do anything for her. Give up anything for her. Go anywhere for her. She'd been through so much. But it'd all be okay because she had him. He wasn't going anywhere. He was gonna help her through this and anything else the world decided to throw at them. As long as they had each other… He stared down at her peaceful form with love in his eyes. In that moment he knew that she would keep fighting.


End file.
